


Closer

by thalia_muse_of_comedy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wizards, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, RIP Vichhan, Vicchan is the only one that dies, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalia_muse_of_comedy/pseuds/thalia_muse_of_comedy
Summary: After losing his familiar, Katsuki Yuuri takes a chance on a new beginning as an assistant to the renowned wizard, Victor Nikiforov. As they grow closer, Yuuri learns how his life continues beyond his grief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still screaming, this fic is 7,000 words longer than I had originally planned. A huge shout out to romancerofnecks on tumblr, who came up with the original prompt and created the art pieces for this fic.  
> I hope my fic has aligned with your vision for the story.  
> A huge thank you to mac for arranging the big bang for a second year!
> 
> Victor's type of magic is based on the spells performed in the Harry Potter series while Yuuri's kind of magic is based on that of The Bone Witch.  
> Enjoy!

The longevity of grief makes it a unique emotion. In the months since his familiar’s death, grief was still Katsuki Yuuri’s constant companion. 

In his student apartment at Hazelwood Wizarding University in London, he had risen everyday with a flick of the wrist to set the kettle to boil. He would swing his legs from the bed and stand. He would turn to reach for Vicchan at the foot of his bed, but stop short. 

Every day, he would have to relive the screech of tires, the scream of pain, and the silence. 

They had been on a walk through the university’s town, on the way to  buy a new notebook for his spell-writing. Everyone had been preparing for the new year. The electric lights and flashes from wands were dazzling. 

Yuuri should have been at his university’s dorm hall, with friends, but he was stuck on writing a new levitation spell. He had filled pages and pages of his notebooks up with failed wording and syntax. He had run out of paper in the dining hall and was going to resort to writing on his arms, until an underclassman of his had begged him to wait. 

With Vicchan’s lead in his hand, he had stopped in front of an music store advertising duplicate technology of the renowned wizard Victor Nikiforov’s award winning magic records. Yuuri had met Victor during a spell writing seminar in his sophomore year. The man had been brilliant and charismatic. Yuuri had stared at the records behind the glass in disbelief. How could they get away with copying Victor’s work while it was still obviously under copyright?

Deep in thought, Yuuri had allow the lead to go slack in his hand. Vicchan had been a well behaved dog and an extraordinary familiar. Why Vicchan had run into the street that day, Yuuri could never understand. 

He had felt the lead leave his hand and was too slow to grab it back. He had ran after Vicchan, but the street was too close and the cars, too fast. 

The owner of the vehicle had stopped to help Yuuri wrap the body, both of them crying. He had walked all the way home with Vicchan in his arms. Fellow seniors recognized him as he came back into campus and guided him to the nurse’s office to treat his shock. A profound bond had been severed in his heart.

After remembering what he had lost, Katsuki Yuuri would walk to the stove, turn off the water, and skip breakfast to punish himself for not being there for the most important companion in his life.

Without Vicchan, Yuuri went from being average-talent wizard with a great aptitude for spell writing to barely having any magic at all. For a while, the other seniors in his Magic and Movement Concentration gave him sympathy. The instructors were kind, until Yuuri’s grades started slipping. They were helpful and understanding, until they learned Yuuri did not plan on searching for a new familiar. 

Two months away from graduation, Yuuri received an email calling him into a meeting with his academic advisor. 

The office was brightly lit, simply decorated, but the plush carpet and the fireplace to Yuuri’s right made it feel cozy.

The advisor welcomed Yuuri and asked him to have a seat. 

“Good afternoon,” he began, “how are you feeling today?”

Yuuri, sitting ramrod straight, answered, “I’m managing.”

The advisor nodded and flipped through the file on his desk. He closed the file and said, “I’m sorry to have to put you on the spot when you’ve experienced such a loss, but your professors have expressed their concerns for your eligibility for graduation. What do you think?”

Yuuri drummed his fingers against his thighs, feeling his hand grow more sweaty by the moment. He looked up into his advisors eyes and back down at his hands almost instantly.

“I think… that I haven’t been putting forth the effort that one would deem required of a senior.” 

The advisor took up a pen, “I think that assessment is a touch too harsh. You lost your familiar. The level at which you perform magic must have went down?”

Yuuri nodded as an answer.

“And you do not plan on attempting to find a new one? This university has programs to help with the process,” the advisor continued.

Tears threatened to spill from Yuuri’s eyes. With a shaking voice, he said, “It’s my fault Vicchan is gone. I was irresponsible. I don’t think someone like me deserves a familiar. I can’t replace Vichhan.”

The advisor made a displeased sound and set down his pen. He rubbed at his temples. Then offered Yuuri a box of tissues. 

“You won’t be able to perform the magic your courses require without a familiar. You know this.”

Yuuri shook his head and bowed it in shame. He dabbed at his eyes with the tissues while the advisor spoke.

“You’ll have to speak with each one of your professors to work out an alternative if you still want to graduate. You’ve come this far, it’d be a waste to drop out now.”

Yuuri nodded, unable to bring himself to speak. 

The advisor picked his pen back up and began writing again, “You also know that you won’t be able to pursue any kind of magical career if you are unable to cast at a professional level? That ability will be beyond you without a familiar.”

Yuuri balled his fists and raised his head.

“Even so, I can’t replace him.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victor was running on fumes. The exhibition was eight months away, plenty of time, but he could feel it slipping through his fingers. 

For the past month, he had basically lived in his lab. His chef eventually gave up trying to call him from the main house to get him to come to dinner. The estate’s maid eventually gave up trying to get Victor to change into fresh clothes at least once a day. And his sole apprentice, Yuri Plisetsky, eventually gave up on trying to get a complete lesson from Victor. 

Frustrated at his master’s behavior, Yuri had called in the only person who could pull Victor out of his mania.

Yakov arrived on a Monday in mid May. He blasted through the wards on Victor’s detached lab.

Victor yelped in surprise, “Yakov, is that you? What are you doing here?”

Yakov ignored Victor’s question and took in the sloppy state of Victor’s work space. With a wave of his hand, he stopped the music. 

“Yakov,” Victor warned, now standing by his desk.

“Don’t try to scold me, boy. Your apprentice called me on the phone, disgusted with your behavior and  _ insisted  _ I come make you useful again. And I came. Mainly to tell you your boy has no manners and neither do you.”

Victor looked down at his days old shirt, feeling the grime of his sweat on his skin.

“I have plenty of manners, Yakov,” Victor answered, “I just was ill prepared from an unannounced guest.” 

Yakov gave another wave of his hand to bring the lights up all the way; Victor hissed in surprise.

“I would have been an expected guest if you had allowed anyone to see you in the past three days. I cannot believe you warded your lab against your own apprentice. It’s supposed to a shared journey, Victor.”

Yakov words, for once, had no bite, merely disappointment in his best student.

Feeling guilty, Victor picked his wand up from his primary desk. With a few movements, he had put away some of the clutter.

“That’s better,” Yakov gestured toward  the door, “Shall we?”

Victor looked outside the open door, seeing sunlight for the first time in too many days.

He placed a hand on Yakov’s upper arm and gave a light squeeze, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve had a bath, you smell terrible.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the new parameters of his coursework in place, Yuuri’s graduation from university came and left with a fizzle and quiet farewells. He had had more than half a mind to not walk across the stage. It felt like a humiliation rather than a celebration, to receive a degree he did not work diligently to complete.

His best friend, Phichit, getting his degree in Potions and Apothecary, had had none of his grumbles.

“Are you going to discount the three and a half years of working your asss off,” Phichit had thrown the dark blue robe at Yuuri after he said he was not going to the ceremony.

Yuuri had stood, motionless, hardly feeling.

Phichit had sighed, “No, you’re not. You’ve been through hell, I understand that. But I’m not letting your pain win this one.”

Phichit had helped dress Yuuri the rest of the way, quietly remarking about Yuuri’s weight loss.

“That’s my next order of business, fattening you back up,” he had said with a playful pinch to Yuuri’s side.

Yuuri had given him the small satisfaction of a giggle, “It’s not so bad. If you’re the superhero best friend you’re pretending to be, you’ll find me a job first.”

With a final brush across the shoulders and a ‘ta-da’ motion before their reflections in the mirror, Phichit had answered, “We’ll comb through every listing, magic and ordinary.”

So, Yuuri had walked across the stage to receive his temporarily empty diploma folder to go along with his empty heart and empty stomach.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Yakov spent two weeks setting the estate right, but he could not babysit Victor forever. 

One morning while having breakfast with Victor and his small staff in the kitchen, he said as much. 

“You insist on running a skeleton crew here, I understand that-,” he began, but was interrupted by Victor.

“I’m not a necromancer.”

“Who taught you to interrupt others? Because I know it wasn’t me,” Yakov’s tone was scathing, but Puma Tiger Scorpion, Yuri’s familiar, purred in his lap. Which, undid some of his harshness.

“As I was saying,” Yakov resumed, passing the cat back to Yuri, who was trying to magic sugar into golems at the table. None of Yakov’s business, really.

“You think you don’t need more help in your household, but you do, Victor.”

Victor stirred his tea with intense concentration, “A maid, a groundskeeper, and a chef are more than enough help for two young men.”

Yuri, from his piles of sugar, made a mocking noise.

“See,” asked Yakov, “your apprentice agrees with me.”

“He’d sell me and you to satan for one piece of licorice, don’t think he’s on your side.”

Yuri sent up a quick, “you’re going on a tangent,” before returning the piles that were slowly beginning to resemble men.

“Yes, let’s steer back,” agreed Yakov, buttering a piece of toast, “Victor, that would be enough if you had an agent for to handle your talks, your patents, and financials, but you insist on doing that all yourself. Add that to being in charge of Yuri’s training, your own experiments, and you know Makkachin needs more attentive care now that’s she’s older!”

Victor’s teacup clattered in its saucer on the table. He turned his attention toward the aging dog with her head on his shoes. Without looking back up at the table he said, “Familiars live far longer than normal animals.”

Yakov wiped his hands on his napkin before reaching out for Victor saying, “they do, but Makka’s already 15. She has the strength and the will to keep going, but she needs the extra love. If you add just an assistant to the household, that’s extra time you can spend with her. Think about it, at least.”

Victor gave Yakov’s hand a light squeeze, before reaching down to smother his best girl in some much needed attention.

 

Victor conceded defeat, seeing his estate with new eyes. Requests for use of the grounds by nearby wizards had gone unanswered during his work frenzy. The roof needed reworking and a late notice with the water and power company frightened him in to complying with his master’s wishes. 

Victor insisted whatever help they did hire had to be knowledgeable about magic, but not necessarily a wizard. Good with animals. Good at math. Willing to wear many hats. 

The position would be paid well, room and board included. Only the serious candidates would be told who their employer was to be, to make sure radical fans and upstart wizards would not find the listing. 

After throwing the job listing into local papers of Ember, Yakov decided it was safe to take his leave. 

At the door, Victor helped Yakov into his coat, saying, “When are you going to retire and move out here to the countryside with the rest of us?”

Yakov made a noise of disgust in his throat, “you’ll have to drag me out of the city, Vitya, this clean air is no good for me.”

He gave Victor goodbye kisses and wrangled Yuri into his arms.

“I expect you to better at your charms and potions when I return, little one. You can’t get by on only transformation magic.”

Yuri wiggled around like a grumpy cat, “the golems were technically a charm! Let me go old man!”

Victor laughed, “You’re fighting him now, but you’ll miss the old man when he’s gone! You’re the one who called him here!”

Yuri stopped wiggling, and Yakov finally released him. 

“I’m glad I did,” he said while stomping to his rooms, “he got you out of the barn.”

“It’s my lab!” But Victor’s shout was merely met with a click from the front door and a slam from Yuri’s.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phchit barrelled into the small flat he was renting by the month along with Yuuri. He was making good on his promise to help Yuuri find a job, but both of their resources were beginning to run low after moving out of the dorms and into this tiny excuse for a flat. 

Yuuri looked up from the classified section of the day’s paper, “Phichit, did you run here from the career counseling appointment?”

“No, I ran here from the tube because I ran into Christophe Giacometti.”

Yuuri fluffed the paper, “So you ran away from your previous employer? I’d do that, too.”

Phichit threw off his shoes and flung himself to the floor, “you misunderstand me. And that internship was great! I learned a lot about the ethics of selling potions. No, anyway! I’m getting away from the point.”

Phichit sat up suddenly and Yuuri decided to finally fold the paper and give him his full attention.

“I ran into Chris on the tube, and he told me about a job opening at the Nikiforov Estate,” the words came out stuck together, as if the air in Phichit’s lungs were incompatible with the excitement.

Yuuri stood up suddenly from the couch, “What kind of position? I’m not a farmhand!”

Phichit scoffed, “Oh, please Yuuri, you’d muck the stables of the Nikiforov Estate and cry tears of joy because you’d be on the same grounds as Victor himself.”

Yuuri sat back down on the couch in huff, “Not a farmhand.”

Phichit finally left his dramatic seat on the floor and joined Yuuri on the couch.

If you had let me finish,” he paused to give Yuuri a pointed look, “I would have told you the position is more like being Victor’s assistant.”

Yuuri zipped his jacket all the way to his chin and played with the zipper, “Which would mean?”

“Taking care of the bills, Victor’s appearance schedules, making sure the house doesn’t fall into disrepair, and, to quote Chris, ‘dragging his manic ass out of the damn barn.’”

“It’s probably a very competitive position…”

Phichit drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, still brimming with the excitement he entered the flat with.

He flashed Yuuri a wicked grin, “They only put out the ad in the town Victor lives on the outskirts of. He lives in France, out in the country. They haven’t had many acceptable applicants. Everyone in town knows what an airhead Victor is and how much of a handful both master and apprentice are.”

Yuuri put his head in his hands, groaning, “Victor is a genius, but yes, I’ve heard he can get a little… focused.”

“Obsessive. He’s a workaholic, Yuuri. But I digress! Chris asked if I knew anyone level headed and well organized with a little bit of a magic background. And I said…”

“You gave him my name?!”

“Yes! Of course I did! Two out of three is good enough for me! You can fake organization!”

“Phichit! I hate you!”

“No you don’t, you love me and are immensely grateful that I gave Chris your number,” Phichit allowed himself to laugh at loud at Yuuri’s distress.

“Ugh, I mean, I might be. After I get over the shock,” Yuuri took off from the couch to pace in the kitchen area. A cup of tea would either calm his nerves or hype him up to face this opportunity.

Phichit wandered over and planted himself on the small piece of counter Yuuri was not using. He kicked his legs excitedly, saying, “This is almost your dream come true! You get to work with Victor Nikiforov! And not just stare at him at guest lectures!”

Yuuri sighed and turned to face Phichit. He flicked the stove with the twist of his fingers in the air.

“I would not be working with him, Phichit. I’d be working for him. In a non magical capacity. Which was definitely not my dream.”

Phichit threw his hands into the air, “Which is why I said almost! I can see you talking yourself out of this, but you’re perfect for the job. So don’t sabotage yourself, okay?”

The kettle clicked and Yuuri’s low whine of frustration synchronized with its scream.

The doorbell of the estate rang over and over.  Victor knew only one person besides Yuri would purposely try to give him a headache.

He swung the door open, a bright smile already in place, “Chris! You made good time out of London!”

The two friends embraced and made their way to the kitchen where the chef, Marisol, was preparing tea and sandwiches for the household.

They sat down across from each other, a pot of tea ready for drinking. The gentlemen thanked Marisol, and Victor gave a short command to the set. Their drinks began to prepare themselves to each of their preferences.

Chris rolled his eyes and said, “while I am impressed that you can magically make my tea to my liking, you saved no time.”

Victor gave a small shrug, “yes, but you potion makers don’t get to see this kind of magic everyday.”

“I live the college town, Victor, I see plenty.”

Marisol set the sandwiches in front of the men. “Should I make dinner for five?”

Victor shook his head, “Elaine already left for the weekend, so for four.”

Marisol crossed her arms and asked, “And you’ll make sure to eat while I’m gone?”

“Chris is staying the weekend, so yes, I will make sure to eat.”

She uncrossed her arms and smiled, “You mean Christ will make sure you eat.”

Chris nodded with his mouth full of sandwich.

“Thank you,” she said, and went back to preparing some small dishes for the weekend.

Chris took a large sip of scalding tea then wiped his fingers on his napkin.

“I found the perfect person to be your assistant!”

“All the way in London,” Victor asked in disbelief. The process had not been easy going. At first, the first few applicants had not know who their employer would be, but once one person knew, everyone knew. Since then, the number of applicants dropped in quality and quantity. Some had been genuine but many had been just an attempt to get Victor interested in them as apprentices. Which was not the job.

Chris nodded, “I ran into one of my old interns and asked if he knew anyone who would be interested, since I know you’ve had a rough go of it, and he recommended his roommate.”

“Was this the Thai fellow?”

“Yes, very personable, really knows how to sell the love potions.”

“I think I met him when I was visiting London last year.”

“That’s him. He gave me his roommate’s contact information, and I gave him a call. He seemed very interested in the position. He’s studied some magic, but at the moment he has no career plans. I brought a copy of the resume he sent me a couple days ago.”

Victor took a slow sip of his own tea. When he was finished, he held out his hand and said, “I’ll have a look at it.”

Chris pulled out the resume from the bag he had brought with him and gave it to Victor. The name on the top of the page was written in English and Japanese.

_ Katsuki Yuuri _

Familiarity tugged at the back of his mind, but Victor couldn’t place it. The resume listed previous positions in customer service and a few small jobs as a temporary lab assistant for some London based wizards.

In the education section, Katsuki had listed his high school in Japan and a liberal arts university in Prague. 

“He didn’t study magic in London?”

“He said he took some class during his time at the university in Prague, but he never finished his degree. Phichit convinced him to move to London some years back.”

“And he comes highly recommended,” Victor asked as he ran a hand through his hair.

Chris nodded enthusiastically, “He’s polite and accustomed to working with wizards and their eccentricities. He obviously knows enough about magic to be of use in the lab if you need him, or answer urgent questions from Plisetsky.”

Victor pulled out his mobile phone and added Katsuki’s information to his phone. He figured if this person already knew who his prospective employer was and was not already beating down the door, maybe he was the right person for the job. He wouldn’t know unless he called Katsuki himself.

“Thank you Chris, I’ll look into it soon.”

Chris swallowed the bite of sandwich he took in Victor’s silence, “You’ll call him today. Yakov isn’t the only one that wants you and your spitfire apprentice to finally have some help.”

Yuuri had just finished clearing the dishes of his shared late lunch with Phichit when his phone began to ring.

The number was not one he knew, so he ran over to Phichit and shook the phone in front of his face.

Phichit squinted and then grinned, “That looks French. Sounds like an expensive phone call. Answer it anyway.”

Yuuri gave a small scream of frustration but answered the call, “Hello?”

“I’m hoping to speak with Katsuki Yuuri,” the smooth voice on the other end answer.

“This is he.”

“Oh good! I hope I caught you at a good time to talk more about the assistant position at the Nikiforov Estate. I’ve heard you’ve already spoken with Christophe Giacometti?”

Yuuri’s legs felt weak, “Yes, it’s sounds like a wonderful opportunity. I’m free to talk at length.”

“Excellent! I’ve had a look at your resume and spoken with Chris myself. It sounds like you’d be a good fit for the group that already works here. If you were to be offered the position, when is the earliest you’d be able to join the estate?”

Yuuri pulled at his hair with his free hand, “The second week of July.”

“You’d be able to be here in two weeks?”

Hoping he didn’t come off too desperate, Yuuri said, “yes, the place Phichit and I are in is by the month since we are both job hunting at the moment.”

“I see. And the places you have listed in your education, that’s the extent of it?”

Yuuri held in a noise of surprise. He was too embarrassed of his current state to list his degree that he would never be able to actually use. He had taken a gamble by not including it, and he was going to stick to it.

“Yes, I dabbled in different branches of magic in Prague, but I don’t have the aptitude for it,” he decided to say.

“Well that’s fine, since you’re mainly dealing with household matters. There will be some magic involved. Is that alright with you,” the voice sounded hopeful.

“Yes it would be fine. I love magic.”

The voice hummed and then spoke, “so, allow me to give you a bigger run down of the position. You would be employed to manage the finances of the estate, order repairs to be done, manage the calendar for visiting wizards and the areas of the grounds they will be using, and occasionally help with experiments in the lab. You would be wearing many hats, but it includes room and board, as well as time off for major holidays.”

Another voice cut in over the receiver, “And making sure this idiot eats the delicious food he pays Marisol to make him!”

“Chris! This is a professional phone call! This is why I wanted to wait until you were gone!”

Yuuri heard them jostle for the phone, and the voice, who can only assume is Victor himself, came back, “I apologize for that interlude. Chris already thinks you’re perfect for the job, and who am I to deny the counsel of a close friend? What do you think?”

Yuuri, by now, had lost the feeling in his fingers wrapped tightly around his mobile. Victor himself had called him about the position. Phichit had been right, this was as close to his dreams as he was going to get.

“I think that I look forward to being your employee,” he eventually gasped out after a poor attempt to compose himself.

“Excellent! Keep an eye on your email, I’ll be sending instructions after the weekend,” Victor told him.

“Thank you, but I do have one question,” Yuuri blurts out.

“Yes?”

“Will you, as my employer, be paying for this horrifically expensive phone call?”

The other side of the line rustled again, but the voice that spoke was not Victor’s.

“I’m sorry, he’s having a laughing fit at himself. He forgot about international charges.”

The Nikiforov Estate, and their small numbers, plunged into a period of organized chaos in preparation for Katsuki’s arrival. Victor and Yuri cleaned the lab thoroughly with the help of Elaine, the maid. Yuri noted how the “barn” was the cleanest he had ever seen it, counting his own arrival to the estate a year prior. The remark earned him a pinch, but even Victor had to agree they could clean up pretty good.

“Nonsense,” Elaine had remarked, “No one is as excited for this young man to arrive as me. Yes, we cleaned the lab, but I’m behind on my usual schedule for the rest of the manor.”

The gentlemen deferred to her wisdom.

Elaine made the spare room in the East Wing across from Victor’s rooms sparkle, and the new bed arrived the day before Katsuki.

Victor had begged Chris to come back from London for Katsuki’s arrival or even bring Katsuki, but he had spent enough time away from his store and could not be swayed.

Chris probably knew, but Victor would never admit to how nervous the idea of having a real assistant made him. His work was highly envied, which made him fearful of help from other wizards. But Katsuki wasn’t a wizard, more like a layman with interest in magic.

At dinner the day before Katsuki’s arrival, Marisol had clucked her tongue at Victor for not eating what she thought was enough.

“It’s a little soon to be working yourself back up, don’t you think,” she had asked him as she cleared away his plate.

Yuri put his fork down and remarked, “It’s not about the exhibition. He’s nervous about Katsuki moving in with us tomorrow.”

Marisol hummed and pulled at Yuri’s hair with her free hand, “well, I’m excited. If there’s someone who can take a little stress off your master, I welcome them. We all know you’re not going to do it.”

Yuri gave her a glare that looked like he was about to command Puma to scratch her within an inch of her life, but she turned away to clean the kitchen.

“Am I really the only person stressed out about this,” Victor more to himself than to Yuri.

“Yes, and get yourself together, you’re a sorry excuse for a master,” Yuri agreed,

“You don’t see me sharing my secrets and my knowledge with any other snot nosed brats, so you better appreciate me more,” Victor retorted.

Yuri merely scoffed and asked Marisol if there was any ice cream in the freezer for dessert.

Victor arose early on the day Katsuki was to join his household. The sun still hid behind the horizon, Makkachin whined from her place at Victor’s feet on the bed. He gave her some affection as way of apology.

“I need to look good today, my darling. Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Makkachin answered by way of licking her master’s face, and Victor took that as a yes.

He showered, using a favorite calming body wash Chris had developed. Once he was done, He placed a hand on the patiently waiting Makka and called upon the store of magic within her. His hair dried instantly. She nuzzled Victor’s hand, enjoying the warmth flowing between them.

Next Victor led the two of them to his sink. He looked at his tired, puffy eyes in his reflection and shook his head.

“Makka, this is not a good look for someone about to meet his new right hand man. I think a glamour or two would be within reason?”

At this Makkachin barked, she knew he was about to use more magic. She loved being of service to Victor. She received love and many treats in exchange.

Victor placed his left hand on the top of Makkachin’s head and she went very still as she had been trained to do. They both felt the magic pass from her and back into Victor, mixing. He recited a low incantation as he pressed his right hand into the dark circles under his eyes. By the end of the spell, his eyes looked healthier. And, if he had chosen to cover a few wrinkles, well that was between him and his familiar.

Now that they were done in getting ready, Victor secured Makkachin’s breakfast. Together, they walked to the lab to play with a few questions that had piled up in Victor’s head.

Upon entering, Victor had to credit Elaine and Yuri for their help in tidying up the disaster zone it had become. The boards with paragraphs of theory in French, Latin, and some Greek were together in a line across from the permanent magic circle in the direct center of the building. Victor’s recording equipment had been moved away from the volatile potions Yuri was working with. The musical instruments had been moved up to the loft, all except the piano, which sat hidden behind the white boards. Elaine, the most blessed maid, had even changed the sheets of the bed in the loft and opened the window a crack to alleviate the stench of old magic.

He approached the white boards and moved behind them to reach the piano. He placed Makkachin’s bowl beside the bench, and she began her breakfast. Victor’s own stomach growled, but the magic within him and the ideas he had buzzed louder. With a flick of his wrist, a marker flew up. Soon, he had a sizable bass and treble clef on the board. He pulled out the bench of the piano and placed his hands upon the keys.

The Nikiforovs’ groundskeeper, Jean, had been waiting for Yuuri when his cab had arrived in Ember. Jean was about Yuuri’ height, but he had muscle Yuuri would never dream of having. He looked older, but Yuuri was never good at guessing the ages of strangers.

Yuuri introduced himself with a handshake and a small bow.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jean said in English, his accent light, “we’ve been needing more help on the estate for longer than Victor cares to admit.”

Together, they walked to the car. Once they were their way, Jean asked, “How long have you been living in Europe?”

Yuuri tore his attention away from the flourishing town and answered, “about six years now. I went to school in Prague for a short time before moving to London.”

“And that’s where you met Mr. Giacometti?”

The car left the town behind and the rolling hills of the countryside were enveloping the road.

“No,” Yuuri said, “I’m close friends with a previous intern of his. They ran into each other again recently and was also put in touch with Mr. Giacometti.”

Jean met Yuuri’s eyes through the rearview mirror, “What a good turn for you and us. The estate is a lot to take in, but remember everyone here has a common goal of helping Victor succeed in his pursuits.”

Yuuri felt the unsaid beneath the words. Victor had been hesitant to hire more help because of the risk of his research being stolen was so high. The knock off records in the small stores hidden in the nooks and crannies of London had been proof enough that Victor’s work was envied.

“To have even a small hand in his success will be a privilege,” Yuuri answered, “I’m honored he chose to take a chance on me.”

The car passed through a small wood. As they cleared it, the small gate of the estate came into view. Jean pulled the car into the garage between what looked like the main house and a barn. Jean took Yuuri’s bags out of the trunk.

“The books you sent last week arrived yesterday. You better keep an eye on them; Victor might try to absorb some into his library.”

They left the garage and turned toward the manor. Light piano music started and stopped as they walked. Yuuri felt his palms grow sweaty from the realization that he would be working directly with one of the greatest wizards in Europe.

Jean threw a glance toward the barn and shook his head, “He’s been at it since before dawn. I wonder if he’s let Makka out of the lab since he started. Not that she’d bother him.”

“The barn is Victor’s lab,” Yuuri asked as Jean turned the key in the lock on the front door of the manor.

“Yes,” Jean told him with a light laugh, “but don’t call it that to his face unless you want to start an argument. He gets teased by Yuri enough.”

Yuuri stepped into the manor when Jean held the door open for him. The manor was bright with natural light. He turned back to Jean, having finally processed his words.

“There’s another Yuri in the manor?”

Jean beckoned Yuuri to follow him toward the east wing. As they walked, Jean explained, “The other Yuri is Yuri Plisetsky, Victor’s apprentice. He moved from Russia to study under Victor at Mr. Yakov’s insistence.”

Yuuri frowned, he did not like the idea of sprouting confusion in the household.

“He must be bright to be an apprentice to Victor.”

“According to Victor and Mr. Yakov, he is extremely talented. He is more suited to apprenticeship than regular schooling, they both say.”

They come to stop in front of a light blue door on the right side of the hall. Jean hands Yuuri a small key.

“This will be your room. It has desk for your workspace and its own private bath,” Jean informed him. He pointed to the white door on the left side of the hall, “those are Victor’s rooms just across the way. He wanted you here in the east wing in case he needs to call on you. Mobile phones don’t work well in the manor, so he wanted you close.”

“Thank you, Jean. Will I be meeting either of the wizards of the house today”, Yuuri asked while turning the key in the door.

“If Elaine can get Victor out of the lab, yes. Settle yourself in and wander back over to the entrance hall, the kitchen is right across from it. Elaine and Marisol will meet you there.”

Yuuri gave Jean a nod and entered his new room.

Victor had erased and redrawn the bars of music countless times in the hours he had been at the piano. His fingers were cramping, but he felt his frustration more. His spell imbued music only worked on record players or cds, the physical movement of the discs manifested the magic. Since he debuted this breakthrough, Victor had been pursuing a way to make the spells digital, but so far he had had no success.

His newest theory was that the chords of songs needed to be altered and that the music itself needed more movement, greater changes in key, faster tempo, but so far nothing felt right.

Makkachin had fallen asleep next to the piano’s foot pedals after her filling breakfast and had not stirred since.

Victor groaned and smashed his face into the piano keys. The marker at the board dictating the music was overwhelmed by the cacophony and dropped from the air.

Victor pushed the bench back from the piano to retrieve it from the floor. The movement roused Makkachin from her nap. She walked over to Victor erasing the music staffs. She whined softly, telling Victor it had been way too long since he had pet her.

As Victor began to relent, Makkachin’s ears perked up, and she sprinted to the main door of the lab. She scratched at the door insistently.

“You need to go out,” Victor asked, with a glance at his watch. It was well passed ten in the morning, and he was late to go with Jean to pick up his new assistant.

He threw open the door to the lab, ready to rush to the main house. Makkachin took a step through the door and launched herself out of the lab. Victor turned back into the lab to shut down the lights. When he faced the doorway again, he was shocked to find Elaine waiting beside a young man Makkachin had knocked over and was licking aggressively. Elaine made a small ‘ta-da’ motion with her hands, which made Victor’s mouth fall open.

He could not believe his familiar’s behavior. He was getting ready to apologize to his assistant, but the laughter stopped him short. Katsuki’s glasses were off center and his face was sadly covered in dog slobber. However, Victor saw Katsuki had his hands in Makka’s fur scratching one of her favorite spots on the back of her head. Soon the laughter turned into cooing as he reveled in the presence of such a sweet dog.

Victor stood waiting for the dog and the young man to be finished with their enthusiastic meeting. A minute later, he saw Katsuki start and look up first to Elain then to Victor. He set his glasses straight and stood up, arms still full of poodle. A faint blush colored Katsuki’s cheeks.

Victor was shocked to see someone holding Makka in their arms, and correctly. She rested her big head on Katsuki’s shoulder and sighed.

“She’s not too heavy for you,” Victor asked his arms reaching out in case Katsuki wanted to let her go.

“No dog is too heavy, if you don’t mind my holding her,” Katsuki said softly.

Instead of taking Makka from him, Victor grabbed Katsuki’s arms in way of greeting.

“I’m pleased to see you love dogs. I’m even more shocked to see my old girl take to someone so easily,” he said with a light squeeze before letting go.

“Thank you for letting me hold her; familiar’s are very precious,” Katsuki gave Victor a nervous smile.

Elaine smoothed her the apron over her burgundy dress, booth men turned to her as she said, “Victor, this is Katsuki Yuuri. He arrived with Jean earlier this morning. Weren’t you supposed to go with him?”

Victor looked back to the lab and apologized, “I’m sorry for not joining Jean to get you from Ember. It’s great to meet you. Was the trip down from London smooth?”

Makkachin wiggled in Katsuki’s arms, and he placed her gently on the ground.

“It was, thank you,” Katsuki replied, his eyes drifting into the open lab.

Victor saw his attention shift and asked Elaine, “did you and Marisol give him a tour of the rest of the estate?”

Elaine nodded, reaching into the bag on the floor next to her, “yes, and he’s already met your Yuri. We waited for you to come out and have a bite, but Marisol figured you’d be cooped up until someone came to get you.” She took a wrapped sandwich and a thermos out of the bag and presented them to Victor.

He took them gratefully, “Marisol always knows.” He opened the thermos and found tomato soup inside. Satisfied with his findings, he asked Katsuki if he wanted a tour of the lab.

Katsuki started to protest, but Victor insisted.

“If Makkachin thinks you’re worth smothering, I trust you already. Please come in,” Victor assured him while leading him into the lab.

With a hand on Makkachin’s head, Victor waved his hand to open the curtains and the windows. With the magic done, Makkachin circled Katsuki and began walking over to the piano. She turned around every few steps to make sure they were following her.

The piano’s ivory keys were bright in the sunlight. Victor saw Katsuki look at the gibberish on the board with a quizzical look. Katsuki turned away from the white boards and examined the piano.

“What languages do you speak, Yuuri,” Victor asked, leaning against the piano.

Katsuki made a face and said, “please call me Katsuki. I’d hate to cause confusion by also being called Yuuri.” Victor nodded in ascent.

“I speak Japanese, English, and French,” Katsuki answered, “I can read latin, but my teachers always told me my pronunciation was poor.”

“It’s a dead language, I’m certain all of our pronunciation is poor. Speak four languages is still impressive, and you never finished school?”

Katsuki shook his head, “It was never my strength.”

Victor circled to pull out the bench. He sat down and Makkachin set her head on his thigh. She whined and looked at him with sad puppy eyes.

“Has the rest of the staff been kind to you,” Victor asked as he pressed down on middle c.

“Yes, Marisol made sure to feed me, too. Yuri even nodded at me when Elaine introduced us, which she tells me means a lot from him.”

Victor set a hand in Makkachin’s fur, “he has an attitude. I apologize for failing to fix that as his master.”

Katsuki looked at the strings inside the piano, “I understand. I think we’re all a handful when we’re teenagers.”

Makkachin whines again, causing the both of them to frown.

Victor looks up at Katsuki from the bench, “This one here is a teenager, too. And more than a handful. Do you mind starting on a task for me today, Katsuki?”

Katsuki met his gaze, then looked down at Makka, “I don’t mind at all, but I don’t know the estate very well yet.”

“Good! You can take Makkachin out and walk around a bit more. She’s been locked in here with me all day. I think she’d like to stretch her legs.”

A small fire lit up in Katsuki’s eyes. His fingers tapped against the legs of his trousers.

“And she’ll mind me? We only just met,” Katsuki asked.

Victor addressed Makkachin, “What do you think? Do you want to go for a walk?”

Her ears perked up at the word ‘walk,’ and her tail wagged aggressively. She left Victor and circled around Katsuki.

“She knows I cannot be persuaded to move from the piano. She wants to go with you, it seems.”

As if to prove his point, Makkachin pawed at Katsuki’s leg before taking off for the door. Katsuki began to call out for her, but Victor told him she would wait for him.

“She’ll show off the whole estate to you, she likes playing tour guide.”

Katsuki said a word of thanks and gave Victor a small bow.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” Victor told him, “I’m hoping you can help me make sure Makkachin is well cared for.”

Before turning to join Makkachin, Katsuki gave Victor a small grin, “everyone else is worried about you, though. And I agree.”

It was Victor’s turn to be embarrassed. He started to retort, but Katsuki beat him to it, “I’ll be back in two hours, and then we’ll talk about what I can start working on to best help you. Away from the lab.”

Katsuki jogged to catch up with Makkachin. Victor yelled at his retreating back, “I can’t believe Marisol already has you against me!”

The door to the lab shut and Victor enchanted the marker once more. He began again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Katsuki had only been living at the estate for a two weeks, but Victor already felt lighter. The assistant had put most of the bills on autopay, something Victor had never stopped to do after he inherited the estate. After a shocking tour of the manor on his first day, Katsuki had ordered the roof to be fixed the next day. 

To Victor’s extreme surprise and relief, Katsuki had introduced him to the concept of a shared digital calendar. On it, Victor could see the wizards scheduled to use the grounds, his upcoming talks, and progress dates for his exhibition project. 

They had been in the lab recording a new laundry spell commissioned by a hotel chain in Paris. During a break, Katsuki had asked Victor for his phone. He had typed and clicked for a couple minutes.

He had given back to Victor saying, “I know phone calls have a hard time coming through in the manor, but I created a calendar I can edit from my phone.”

“And I’ll be able to see it on my phone? That’s amazing,” Victor had remarked.

Katsuki had scrunched his face in confusion, “aren’t you technically a techno-wizard?”

Yuri, from the desk in the loft, had mocked his master, “Victor is so behind the times when it comes to technology. If it’s not adaptable to music making, he doesn’t care.”

Victor had to then scold Yuri, but Katsuki had merely nodded and said, “makes sense.”

 

Katsuki continued to run the household with the same open understanding he had shown that day in the barn. He minded Elaine when she bursted into his room at six in the morning to begin her cleaning, despite the profuse apologies from Victor. Instead of complaining, Katsuki adjusted his schedule to be up before Elaine’s starting time. 

When Victor had guests over, such as Chris or the effervescent Mila (who was over often, since she lived in town), Katsuki had offered to help Marisol with the dinner preparations. And when the intense summer storms had threatened the sky, Katsuki had ran outside after Jean to cover the delicate rose bushes. 

In the lab, Victor wondered how much magic Katsuki had truly studied. Today, Victor was finishing transcribing the laundry spell for final recording. Katsuki sat at the desk away from the recording equipment with Victor’s bank statements and check book. Victor heard him tapping his pen on the table, indicating Katsuki was deep in thought. 

Victor looked up from his sheets to find Katsuki squinting at the white boards on the other side of the lab. Victor stood up from the recording equipment. Seeing Victor approach, he turned back to the statements in front of him.

“Something catch your eye on the boards? You can go look, they won’t bite,” Victor teased.

An embarrassed blushed made a home in Katsuki’s cheeks. Victor watched him push his glasses back up his nose. Katsuki shook his head, “It’s fine, I shouldn’t impose.”

Victor frowned; he didn’t like Katsuki thinking he had keep his head down. Instead, Victor placed his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, “Come to the boards with me. It’ll only be for a moment.” 

Katsuki looked up at Victor, wide-eyed. He allowed Victor to lead him to the smattering of text along this side of the boards. With encouragement from Victor, he read the section that had caught his eye. 

“Well,” Victor prompted, “what do you think?”

Katsuki tapped out a nervous rhythm on his pants. He pointed at a section of the spell and said, “this section, wouldn’t it be better to write the incantation in present tense, rather than future? I-I think this spell requires a lot of magic. The word choice doesn’t give it enough of a concrete path to follow. It might be too hard to control in its current state.”

Victor looked between Katsuki and the board, reading the section Katsuki had pointed out. For a moment, he looked between the board and the nervous Katsuki. 

Without a word, Victor handed Katsuki a marker. He received the marker with a shaky hand, “Are you sure? I’m probably not seeing the whole picture! I don’t want to mess up your spell, I’m probably wrong…”

“Write the new incantation and we can test it,” Victor decided.

A few minutes later, Victor stood with his wand out. He read the complete incantation. He moved his wand through the air in a series of movements not unlike  a conductor with his baton.

The lights within the lab brightened, but nothing else happened. Victor negated the spell. Katsuki frowned from his place by the boards, looking ready to apologize.

“No you don’t,” Victor stopped him, “you heard me say the whole thing, but it’s final form will be in music form on a record.”

Katsuki didn’t looked convinced as he walked back to his desk, “Is it your spell for the exhibition?”

Victor made a few more notes on the section they had rewritten. When he was finished, he recapped the marker and said, “Yes. it’s a spell to power a home in the case of a power outage or similar emergency.”

Katsuki folded a bank statement and set it to the side. 

“Your spells play on traditional record players. Don’t they require electricity to work”

It was Victor’s turn to feel nervous, “I’m planning for this to be my first digital piece.”

Katsuki crumpled the paper in his hand in surprise, and Victor smiled.

“So then all a person or family would need is a already charged device to start playing it,” Katsuki offered.

Victor nodded and sat in the chair by the recording equipment.

“As my spells stand now, they need to physical movement of the needle. They are complex spells, so the magic needs to be created by the music and guided by the machine.”

“I see, that’s spellwork far and beyond what I studied,” Katsuki remarked.

Victor picked his pen up and restarted his transcriptions, “But you knew enough to help make it better, and that was a pleasant surprise.”

Victor heard Katsuki clatter out of his chair and walk toward the door.

“I’m going to call the tailor shop in town,” Katsuki said on his way out, “Yuri told me he’s outgrown his wardrobe.”

Victor scoffed, “Then I need to get working on a spell to stop his growth spurts.”

Katsuki deigned to laugh before the door clicked closed, leaving Victor wondering once more about Katsuki’s past.

 

The next day, Katsuki came out of Yuri’s rooms in the west wing with a large box in his arms. As if sensing him, Makkachin bounded up to him. 

“Good morning, pretty girl,” he cooed, “did your master give you the run of the house again?” Makkachin did a small spin for Katsuki, begging for pets. 

Katsuki stopped for a moment, assessing the weight of the box of clothes in his arms. He decided it was light enough to levitate. He set the box down beside Makkachin, and warned her away from it. She sat patiently.

Katsuki recited the levitation spell he wrote in his last semester at university and wove his arm through the air as he went. The box rose from the ground and hovered almost eye level. 

“A bit higher than I was expecting, but don’t judge me, Makka. I’m out of practice.”

Katsuki took off like a shot, commanding the box to follow him. Knowing that she had been deceived, Makkachin barked and took after Katsuki. 

As they came into the main hall of the manor, Katsuki stopped. In a flash, Makkachin was on top of him, punishing him for his trickery with thousands of gross dog kisses. 

Katsuki dug his hands into Makkachin’s fur and pulled her off of his face, “yes, I will pet you now. I don’t need a bath from you, though.”

They were a heap on the floor for a few minutes, until Victor walked in from the front door. Katsuki cursed, and thought about cancelling the spell on the box, still hovering five feet in the air.

The box came crashing down, and both men started in surprise. Makkachin left Katsuki to demand affection from her master. 

Katsuki stammered, “I was, I mean. Marisol told me to call you for lunch, but looks like you came of your own volition?”

Victor allowed Katsuki to avoid the subject of the floating box. It was one thing to flip a few switches with minimal magic training, but a levitation spell would have to accommodate the weight of the object for gravitational purposes and for the correct amount of energy to be applied to it. Good levitation spells, stable ones, took great studying to master.

However, Victor kept on with the subject of lunch, “I actually came in to ask you to go into town with Jean to fetch some materials I need for Yuri’s next set of lessons.”

Katsuki stood up from his place on the floor and took the box back up in his arms, “Yes, that works perfectly. I was going into town to drop off Yuri’s old clothes with the tailor. He told me on the phone that he could find a new home for them.”

They walked together into the kitchen, where Marisol had placed a refreshing salad with chicken and a light dressing on the table. Victor was about to tell Katsuki he approved of the tailor’s idea, but he stopped when he saw the frown on Katsuki’s face.

Marisol was cutting some bread on the kitchen’s island when she said, “Katsuki! Thank you for grabbing Victor! Sit down and eat, I made something light to counter this heat.”

Katsuki backed toward the door, “I better start on my errands. I’m a little behind from fighting with Yuri about his clothes. I’m going to have Jean bring the car around.”

And with a polite nod to both Marisol and Victor, he exited the kitchen. Victor made to go after him to give him the list of materials, but Marisol tutted at him. Obeying his chef, he sat down at the table. Marisol came over with a glass and a pitcher of iced water.

“Thank you, goddess on high,” he said.

“Don’t try to butter me up,” Marisol countered, “both of you are harder to wrangle than cats.”

“Both of us?”

“He calls you to eat because that’s what you pay him to do, but Katsuki eats less than you do. I’m lucky if I can get a piece of toast in him before noon,” she informed him.

Victor viciously stabbed his greens, “Katsuki eats just fine at dinner.”

Marisol called Elaine down from the quarters above the kitchen they shared along with Jean. She sat down in front of her own salad for lunch and sighed.

“He pushes the food around the plate. At first, I didn’t want to pry. It’s hard moving to a new place.”

Victor put his fork down and folded his hands on the table, “But he’s adjusted to being here quite well, I thought.”

Marisol agreed and said, “I won’t deny he’s already dear to everyone here, even Yuri if he bothered to argue with him. But I think he’s hurting. I worry.”

Victor fidgeted with his water glass, “I know he… he is a very private person. I also see the pain. We haven’t had a moment to talk about the personal at length just yet.”

Marisol picked at her salad, “As long as you know. We’ve only just met him.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katsuki returned home from town with Jean carrying the spell books Victor had messaged him to pick up. He was surprised the techno-wizard had remembered mobile devices existed long enough to send Katsuki the shopping list. 

Victor and Makkachin met them in the entrance hall. He tooks the books from Katsuki with a word of thanks and asked if Katsuki had also picked up the items he had special ordered from the apothecary.

“Yes, we left them in the lab since some of the substances were marked as hazardous. Is Yuri already at such a level with his potion making,” Katsuki asked. 

Victor looked like the cat that got the canary, “Not technically, but he’s so uninterested in potions that I planned this as a way to excite him.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, “does anything excite Yuri?”

Victor thought for a moment before responding, “Motorcycles.”

“Maybe he should have pursued a career in racing?”

The kitchen door swung open, and Yuri entered the hall.

“I like motorcycles, but being a wizard is much cooler. Racers lose limbs like hockey players lose teeth. Gross.”

“I thought I told you to stop casting those eavesdropping charms on the manor,” Victor asked, crossing his arms.

Yuri turned toward his wing of the manor, “Maybe, but you also told me I need to practice charming at a higher level. Have fun trying to decide the trigger for the charm.”

Victor called after his obstinate apprentice, “I’m going to unravel this charm as soon as I put these books in the library. Read them by next week.”

Yuri waved a hand behind him, not deigning to answer Victor.

With Yuri down the hall and Jean on his way to freshen up for dinner, Katsuki spoke, “I don’t know how you let him talk to you like that.”

Victor shrugged and headed toward the doors of the library off the dining area of the hall. Katsuki followed him, not yet ready to face Marisol after running away from lunch. 

The Nikiforov Estate’s library housed thousands of books, maintained by Yuri and Elaine in the most recent years. Wizards in Ember and surrounding towns traveled here frequently to read from the collection started by Victor’s grandparents after they had immigrated from Russia. 

The windows had thick blackout curtains to protect the older books from the harsh rays of the sun. A long table sat in the middle of the room, currently covered in Yuri’s most recent coursework. Victor set the books on the table and addressed Katsuki’s remark.

“I was much like him as an apprentice, so I understand him. Either he truly has the amount of confidence in himself he portrays or he’s faking it. Whichever, I don’t think his pride is a bad quality.”

Katsuki drummed his fingers on the back of a chair at the table for a moment before saying, “As long as you’re fine with it, I suppose.”

Victor signaled for Katsuki to follow him back out of the library.

Victor brought them back out into the dining area. “I don’t use this table much because I don’t like being apart from Marisol and Elaine in the kitchen. I eat in the kitchen with them because that’s where I’m comfortable. If I wasn’t comfortable with the way my apprentice addresses me, I would let him know. But I’m most comfortable with our banter.”

Katsuki pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled at Victor, “You really care about everyone here.”

Victor stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, slightly embarrassed. It’s hard for a man so tall to look like a little boy, but Katsuki thought he was doing a good impression.

“I consider everyone who lives here to be family, and I hope they think the same as me,” Victor offered quietly. 

They stood beside the well polished dining table for a moment, watching each other. Katsuki excused himself and started down the hall to his room.

“Good idea, wash up for dinner. Marisol made some breaded pork cutlet,” Victor informed him. 

Katsuki stopped and turned back to Victor, mouth agape.

Victor grinned and shyly walked toward the kitchen door. Once he was mostly hidden behind the door he said, “Marisol thought you were feeling a little homesick, so I called Phichit-”

“That’s expensive!” Katsuki took a step toward Victor.

“I called Phichit, and he told us you like a dish called Katsudon. Marisol didn’t want to get the recipe wrong, so she just made the cutlet the main entree. She’s hoping you’ll teach her the whole thing soon so she can make it for all of us,” Victor explained. 

Katsuki was stuck still, something warm and painful blooming in his chest. He rubbed at his eyes from under his glasses before thanking Victor.

Victor, Marisol, and Katsuki ate their dinner together slowly that night. Their conversation like a slow winding river as Katsuki took small bite after small bite. He ate most of the food on the plate before he had to stop. Marisol said nothing as she stood up to clear his plate. When she came to rejoin the conversation, she asked Katsuki how she liked the food.

“It was delicious,” he told her. “You’ve got the hard part of it down. I’ll show you how to make the rest of the Katsudon sometime soon,” he promised her.

Marisol and Victor both exchanged a quick glance as Katsuki stood up to head to the library. He wished the both of them a goodnight.

He stopped a moment at the door. “If you’d like to call me Yuuri, I wouldn’t mind,” he said with a shaky voice.

“Are you sure,” Victor asked from the table.

“I still don’t want to cause any confusion in the house.”

“We don’t mind, Yuuri,” Marisol offered.

“Then, it’ll be fine. Goodnight, Victor. Marisol.”

“Goodnight, Yuuri,” they responded

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuuri still couldn’t face breakfast, his self-imposed punishment still weighed heavily upon him. However, Elaine and Marisol had taken to having stashes of granola bars in his room, the library, and the lab. He did not tell Victor about the secret food, because he knew Victor would use them as an excuse to not eat real food. 

Yuuri slowly readjusted to eating over the next month. No one forced him to eat when he declined, but Victor sometimes brought him fresh cut veggies in the library. Yuuri was trying. Trying because Victor had cared enough to treat Yuuri as family. 

As time ticked by, Yuuri grew more comfortable talking about magic with Victor. Their time in the lab was filled with excited shouting and encouragement. On more than one occasion, Yuri Plisetsky had stomped away from the lab, saying they were too loud for him to concentrate.

“He’s just using it as an excuse to avoid his potions work and sneak off into to town to meet with his friends,” Victor had told him once. Yuuri had liked the idea of the other Yuri spending time with peers. He knew Chris would be down from London again soon, ready to force the apprentice into a potions centric lesson. 

Even after Yuuri began to eat dinner more and the need to force a small snack on him subsided, Victor became a frequent presence in the library after dinner. Most of the time, the two of them sat in companionable silence. Victor brought along Yuri’s essays to grade or a small spell he had been commissioned to create. 

Yuuri was the kind of reader to get absorbed into the book with little awareness of the outside world. Hunched over a tome, his right hand traced nonsense patterns along the wood. Makkachin had her head on Yuuri’s lap, so he pet her with his left hand. The book was in French, Yuuri’s worst language, so the progress was slow.

Yuuri felt Victor’s eyes on him, so he looked up and raised an eyebrow. Victor merely gestured to Yuuri’s right with his chin. The part of the table he had been tracing was glowing faintly, a rune sat in the glow. 

Yuuri jumped up from the table with a cry, letting go of Makkachin. The glow faded, Victor laughed.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen that kind of accidental magic,” Victor said.

Yuuri looked at his hand, the table, and Victor in quick succession, “I didn’t think I had the power to activate that kind of rune.”

“What was it,” Victor asked, curious. He came to join Yuuri on his side of the table. 

Yuuri shook his head, trying to clear it, “A shielding rune.”

Victor pulled out his wand and transformed a nearby lamp into a knife. With short word and a flick of his wand, the knife disappeared and reappeared in his hand. He offered the knife handle first to Yuuri.

Yuuri slowly took the knife in his hand, “What do you want me to do with it?”

Victor made a throwing motion.

“You can’t be serious,” Yuuri countered.

“Test it out! I want to see what kind of shield you made,” Victor insisted, his eyes sparkling.

With a groan and a final look at Victor (yes, his eyes were still sparkling) Yuuri said, “Makkachin will be very sad if I die because of this.”

Victor waved his hand, “It could rebound and hit me, she’ll be even more sad.”

“You will have deserved it.”

“Stop wishing death to your employer and throw the knife.”

Yuuri groaned again but sent the knife flying toward the rune on the table. The pair braced for the rebound, Yuuri hit the deck and Victor held his wand aloft.

The knife did not rebound, but instead stuck in the air, the thin outline of the shield buzzing with energy. 

Victor let out a low whistle. He undid the magic binding the rune and magicked the knife back into a lamp.

“I’d like to see you do that again,” he said grabbing Yuuri by the hand, “I didn’t recognize the rune, did you write it yourself?” 

Yuuri’s head was spinning from the use of magic, the threat of almost dying for the sake of the scientific method, and the feeling of Victor’s hands encircling his own.

“I-I think I learned it back in Prague,” he lied. 

Victor let go of his hand to force him to recreate it, but after a few minutes of trying, Yuuri found he couldn’t replicate the level of magic he’d just shown.

“Must have been a fluke,” Yuuri offered, but Victor didn’t seem convinced. 

Makkachin whined beside Victor, waiting for some pets like the spoiled girl she was.

In mid September, Mila called the manor to let Yuuri know she would be paying a visit to borrow the library and the outdoor magic circle in the first week of October. 

“I’ll be bringing my apprentice and an assistant, so please let Elaine know to so she can prepare the spare rooms,” she told Yuuri. 

“Sounds like a big operation, I’ll email you with the expense quote. Is this for a client or personal research?” Yuuri cradled the phone with his left hand and began writing notes with his right.

“It’s for a client. We’re placing a powerful binding charm on a newlywed couple. They both travel frequently for work and wanted something to be able to let the other know they’re thinking about them.”

Yuuri drummed his pen, “wouldn’t it be simpler to send a text?”

Mila laughed on her end, “You’re not very romantic are you, Yuuri? Don’t be talking like that to my clients when they come down.  You’re trying to break my business.”

“Don’t you specialize in divination?”

“Which means most of my clients are romantics,” Mila answered with a huff.

“I understand, I understand. Will your clients be needing a room as well?”

Something crashed in the background, but Mila answered calmly, “yes, you can put my assistant up with the trio and my apprentice can room with me.”

“Ok, I’ll send you the expense sheet after I run the numbers today.”

Mila screamed at someone away from the phone, “I have to go, Yuuri. Thank you so much. It’s been so much easier to get the extra help with my work with you running the estate. Oh, and make sure to put a muffling charm on the newlyweds’ room.”

“Gross,” Yuuri exclaimed.

“Hush you. Goodbye Yuuri.”

“Goodbye Mila, see you soon,” Yuuri went to click end, but he heard Mila call his name again.

“What was that?”

“I said be careful doing chores tomorrow.”

“Ummm okay,” Yuuri said, confused, “thank you Mila.”

He hung up the phone wondering what that was all about.

The next morning, Elaine entered Yuuri’s room late and without the usual gusto. She opened the blinds and winced as the sun came through.

Yuuri closed out the shared calendar on his phone and asked if she was feeling alright.

Elaine wiped her brow and replied, “I’ll be honest with you, Yuuri, I think I have a migraine beginning behind my eyes.”

Yuuri stood up from the desk and grab Elaine’s cleaning kit out of her hand. “Have you had anything to eat yet today,” he asked while leading her out of his room.

“I wasn’t hungry when I woke up,” she responded. 

“If you’re feeling ill, you should lie down, Elaine.”

“I didn’t want to-” Elaine stopped mid sentence with a wince.

“I’ll wake Jean, he can at least take over the vacuuming today. You’re going to have some toast and water.”

“And then back to work,” Elaine tried to counter as they entered the kitchen.

“No,” Yuuri said pointedly, “then you’ll be taking medicine and going to back to bed”

From the island of the kitchen, Marisol watched Yuuri lead Elaine to sit at the table. Yuuri asked her to put some bread in the toaster for Elaine. Marisol hurried to comply while Yuuri fetched the water pitcher from the fridge.

Victor entered the kitchen a moment later, yawning loudly, and without Makkachin. He opened his eyes and found Elaine sweating in her chair. He asked what was wrong.

“A migraine,” Elaine and Yuuri replied in unison. 

Victor thought for a moment, then pulled his wand out of the special pocket in his trousers. Soon, Victor had a pair of sunglasses ready for her. “For the light sensitivity,” he told Elaine softly when he handed them to her.

Marisol gave Elaine her toast and set Victor’s breakfast on the table. She raised an eyebrow at Yuuri, who was standing by the island. Yuuri looked at Elaine nibbling slowly on her toast. He nodded to Marisol and took a seat at the table.

“I told Elaine she needs to take the day off. She keeps this place so clean; I doubt a day without her will have us living in squalor,” Yuuri told Victor. To Yuuri, Victor looked exhausted. Even without much sleep, Victor was a morning person. He often said he got his best work done in the early morning.

“That’s fine,” Victor said quietly, while picking at his eggs.

Yuuri placed a hand on Victor’s arm, “Victor, are you feeling okay?”

Victor put down his fork and looked up from his plate. “Makkachin hasn’t been feeling well recently. She woke up around four and couldn’t settle back to sleep.”

“Do you want me to go with you to the vet again,” Yuuri offered. He could feel dread brush it’s fingers down his spine. 

Victor shook his head, “she didn’t throw up and she’s still eating, so I don’t think she needs to go to the vet. I’m honestly hoping this will just pass.”

Yuuri gave Victor’s arm a squeeze before letting go as Marisol handed Yuuri a plate with toast and jam.

“Do you need me to run your errands today,” Yuuri asked.

Victor declined, “Yuri has an exam at the guild he’s trying to get into, and I have a meeting with the local committee for the exhibition.”

“And Marisol leaves for home for the weekend,” Yuuri asked to no one in particular.

“Yes, so it’ll be just you to mind the house while we’re out,” Victor answered.

“I’ll bring Makka’s bed into the kitchen where it’s warm, then,” Yuuri decided, finishing his toast.

“Ok, Elaine, let’s get you back to bed,” Marisol said when she saw Elaine finished as well. Elaine was finally too tired to protest. 

When they disappeared up the stairs to their quarters, Victor left the table to scoop the rest of his breakfast into the trash. Yuuri watched him silently, knowing he today was not the day to pick a fight over eating.

Victor set his dish in the sink and gazed out the window. Yuuri watched him, words of comfort stuck in his closing throat. Victor’s hands curled around the counter and his shoulders began to shake.

Yuuri was up from the table and beside him in a flash, but he found himself still unable to speak.

“I’ve been too obsessed with work,” Victor whispered. “I always have been. What if she’s hurting because I didn’t spend enough time with her? I-I’m not ready to lose her…”

“You’re not losing her; you said yourself she doesn’t need to go to the vet,” Yuuri finally spoke, hands fisted at his side.

Victor let go of the counter to wipe at his eyes. He place a hand over his heart and tapped his collar bone. “I thought I had so much more time with her. Familiars live as long as 30 years. Makka’s only 15…”

“And she’s just having a rough few days. If she looks even a little worse, I’ll call you and we’ll go to the vet. Together,” Yuuri said, moving closer to Victor. “You love her more than anything else, and she knows that. Don’t worry about time, I know the two of you still have plenty.”

Victor faced him, and Yuuri’s heart broke. Tears were starting to make a trail down the side of Victor’s face. Yuuri grabbed both of Victor’s arms, but Victor went in for a hug. Yuuri stood ramrod straight while his employer embraced him. Soon, Victor let go saying, “You’re the only person I trust with her. She loves you, too.”

Yuuri grabbed some napkins from the table and handed them to Victor. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll be in for Makka and her bed as soon as Marisol comes back down,” he all but kicked Victor out of the kitchen.

 

The household had all gone their separate ways for the day, only Yuuri and Elaine, asleep, remaining in the manor. Jean had offered to return after driving the wizards to Ember, but Yuuri had insisted he spend the day in town. 

Makkachin slept fitfully in her bed under the kitchen table, but Yuuri kept a close eye on her. 

 

Though Elaine’s hard work kept the house clean, the kitchen needed some love. Yuuri had all but kicked Marisol out the door to enjoy the weekend with her family. He had made her leave the dishes from her meal prepping as well as the table setting from breakfast. 

In addition, the bedding from the guest rooms needed to be go through the wash since a group of visiting wizards had left the evening before. 

For a moment, Yuuri couldn’t decide which to start in on. Then, he decided to take advantage of the empty manor. 

A few minutes later, Yuuri wheeled in the the record player from the formal dining area with Victor’s recently finished laundry spell ready to go. 

Yuuri popped in on Makkachin after plugging it in and gave her a wink. 

“I’ve been dying to see this one in action. Wizards are so silly making spells for things technology already makes fairly simple, but this one folds the clothes too, so I guess they’re the real winners?”

Makkachin cracked open an eye and stretched to walk around the kitchen. 

Yuuri brought out the soap and a bucket of water, as per the instructions of the record. He set the needle to the record and watched as the globs of water mixed with the soap and joined the bedding in the air. 

“That’s flashy,” Yuuri decided. 

With the his curiosity sated, He began to clear the kitchen table. He whistled along to the music of the laundry spell. With the table cleared, he dug his hands into the soapy sink water. 

Makkachin made a small lap around the kitchen, then joined Yuuri at the sink. She laid her huge body across Yuuri’s feet. 

The music hit a section Yuuri remembered helping Victor transcribe. He sang the original incantation under softly as he scrubbed a pan. 

Yuuri was amazed by Victor’s spell writing process. The spells began as incantations, words carefully chosen for their purpose. Then, he selected an instrument and tempo for the song. The longest part of the process, Victor had told him, was finding the right notes to replace the words of the incantations. Victor’s reasoning for writing the spells in music was that music travels faster and longer than speech. In Victor’s mind, music was already a powerful form of magic. The spells lasted longer without the restraints of the spoken word. 

Inside the water, Yuuri traced a circle as he sang about the beginning of another cycle. He felt a magic sap away at his energy. The soapy water bubbled and warmed.

Pleasantly surprised, Yuuri used his fingers to draw a sharp angle as he sang about wringing out the bedding. A splash of water hit him in the back. 

He turned to look at the washing, but the bedding was simply following the directions of the music. 

“Okay, then.”

Yuuri finished the dishes and drained the sink. Makkachin stood up and circled Yuuri excitedly. 

“I can’t play with you, yet. I have to mop the kitchen still,” he told her. 

Makkachin leaned against Yuuri’s leg. She gave him her big, begging puppy dog eyes. 

He sighed, “you’re a spoiled brat, but I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He scratched her under her chin and flopped her ears around. 

“Did you see me do a bit of magic? That was a nice surprise. I wonder if i could find the mop like this…”

A hand still in Makkachin’s fur, Yuuri used his free hand to trace a seeking rune in the air. “Where’s the mop,” he asked to no one but the magic. 

He felt his magic go from him. He felt it find the mop. As he stepped forward to go to the closet it was hidden in, Makkchin gave a bark. 

Magic surged through the hand on Makka. The mop appeared in his hand. 

Yuuri yelled in surprise, dropping the mop. He felt his glasses slide down his nose as he slowly looked down at Makkachin. 

“What-do you-i mean we. Did we use magic together?”

Makka nuzzled her nose into Yuuri’s palm. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He dropped to his knees, feeling faint. “Makkachin, that shouldn’t be possible, you’re Victor’s familiar aren’t you?”

Makkachin licked Yuuri’s face and wagged her tail, appearing to be feeling quite well.

Excitement bubbled inside of him. His mind making the connections between this beautiful dog before him and the magic he had done in the past few months. 

“Should we test this out,” he asked her. Makkachin sat straight like the good familiar that she was and waited for Yuuri to use her stores of magic. 

Yuuri stood and set a hand on the top of her head. He traced out the runes for “command” and “wash.” He directed the energy coming from both him and Makkchin at the mop. It stood on its own instantly. A laugh of pure joy escaped Yuuri’s lips. 

He turned to the water bucket from the laundry spell. With a wave of his hand, a wave of water rose. The mop slid over to the suspended water and soon the mop was ready to go. He sent it on its way with a flourish.

Unable to stop himself, Yuuri chanted a long string of latin pointing at the still drying dishes. They set to work filing back into the cabinets they called home. 

The buzz of magic coursed through the air, the kitchen alive with sound and movement. Yuuri had missed magic, missed the satisfying drain of a spell performed. He had missed the connection between wizard and familiar. 

Yuuri thought of another spell to try, but stopped short. This wasn’t his familiar. Whatever fluke or circumstance that had allowed Yuuri to access the magic within Makkachin did not change that fact. A deep, visceral guilt made a home in Yuuri’s throat. He was betraying not only Victor, but also his promise to never take another familiar. 

Yuuri slid back onto the floor in defeat, too absorbed in his grief to think to cancel the magic. He wrapped his arms around himself, fisting the fabric of his shirt tight against his skin. For a moment, he sat in dead silence, forgetting how to breathe. 

Soon, the air returned to his lungs, in the form of rough gasps and sobs. The tears came, but Makkachin was quick to lick them from his face. Yuuri wanted to push her away, to not betray Victor more than he already had. But, he couldn’t. He wrapped her in a hug as he wept.

How dare he use the familiar of the man who took him into his home and made sure he ate. Victor was a brilliant man who always had time for Yuuri’s opinions, always curious. He could never face him again with this knowledge.

Yuuri heard the kitchen door burst open. He looked up, vision watery from the tears and blurry from the state of his glasses.

Victor stood at the entrance to the kitchen, breathing heavily. He looked sweaty and dishevelled. His look of panic shifted into relief, then once more into panic. He took in the state of the kitchen, the parade of dishes and the dancing of the mop. The bed sheets were folding themselves quietly in the far corner.

“Yuuri, what’s going on? I felt Makkachin expel quite a bit of magic. I thought may she had taken a turn,” Victor explained. He pulled out his wand and undid the runic magic Yuuri had placed on the kitchen. The calming record stopped abruptly and the sheets fell, lifeless once more.  

Yuuri released Makkachin, but he couldn’t speak. His eyes felt swollen and his fingers dug into the skin of his palms. Makkachin whined, worried about Yuuri.

Victor joined them on the floor. He gave Makkachin a pat as a greeting, then focused his attention on Yuuri. He placed a light hand on Yuuri’s back, which nearly sent Yuuri back into hysterics.

“Yuuri, whatever’s happened, you can tell me,” Victor assured him. But when Yuuri still would not or could not speak, he tried leading him instead. 

The record didn’t do all this magic, did it,” He asked.

Yuuri shook his head and coughed.

“That’s a lot of magic for a layman,” Victor puzzled. 

Yuuri nodded and dug his fingernails deeper into his hands.

Victor saw this and grabbed both of Yuuri’s hands. He slowly pried them open and refused to let go.

“I won’t have you hurting yourself over a kitchen,” Victor warned him.

Yuuri finally looked at Victor and choked out, “it’s not about the kitchen.”

“I know,” Victor responded, his voice quiet.

Yuuri tried to take his hands back, but Victor held fast. Yuuri made a sound of desperation.

“I-,” his voice broke, “I used Makkachin.”

Victor looked surprised, but not as hurt as Yuuri had been anticipating. The tears finally stopped.

“Why aren’t you mad,” Yuuri demanded.

“I had assumed Makkachin was dying, so this is much better news,” Victor answered.

“Victor, I used your familiar. That shouldn’t even be possible.”

Victor looked down at the hands he was holding. Without looking up, he asked, “Yuuri, how do familiars work?”

Frustrated, Yuuri said, “Familiars are animals with an aptitude for storing magic and creating their own to assist a wizard. Familiars and wizards need to be compatible and have a strong bond in order to perform magic together.”

Victor nodded, “you’re like an encyclopedia of magic theory.”

He let go of Yuuri’s hands and wrapped an arm around the patient Makkachin.

“There is still so much about magic, especially familiars, that we don’t yet know,” Victor began, “but the most widely accepted theory revolves around a sixth sense that animals have that humans do not. Familiars are attracted to wizards with a soul compatible with their own. That’s how the bond begins, and that’s how it’s strengthened.”

With his hands now free, Yuuri wiped his eyes and fixed his glasses, “So you’re saying that I’ve also formed that kind of bond with Makkachin? But what about you?”

“My tie to her is still there and flourishing. I think she loves both of us dearly,” Victor replied.

“I’m glad she’s feeling better,” Yuuri whispered.

“I think she had too much magic stored in her. If she’s bonded to the both of us, she’s been storing nearly double her usual amount,” Victor theorized.

Yuuri frowned, “so she was sick because of me?”

“It was both us of, don’t take all the blame.”

Yuuri sat silent for a moment, thinking. “What does all of this say about us,” Yuuri finally asked, “you and me, I mean.”

It was Victor’s turn to think for a moment, scratching the back of Makkachin’s head. 

“I think it means our souls are… similar? Compatible,” he offered.

Yuuri gave a mocking laugh out of Plisetsky’s repertoire, “What, like soulmates?”

Victor hide his face in Makka’s curly fur and nodded.

Yuuri sighed, “Victor, I don’t know if I believe in the concept.”

Victor dug his face further into Makkachin. The fur muffled his response.

“I didn’t catch that,” Yuuri admitted.

Victor raised his head and repeated, “It doesn’t have to mean anything more than you want it to.”

“Okay,” said Yuuri.

A twinkle came back into Victor’s eyes, “Wait, this means you have to tell me the truth about you. You’re obviously a wizard, you liar.” Victor’s words had no bite, he was excited.

Yuuri groaned, “Yes. I studied movement in magic at Hazelwood.”

“I knew that’s why you were in London!”

“No, you didn’t,” Yuuri insisted.

“Fine, I didn’t. So that’s why you don’t have a wand? You use movement to direct your intention rather than incantations or a wand,” Victor postulated.

Yuuri nodded, embarrassed.

“Then where’s-” Victor started, but stopped himself short. “You lost your familiar…”

Yuuri looked away and nodded.

Victor’s eyes light up, “I thought I’d seen you before! You were the student with the toy poodle familiar! Makkachin loved him.”

Yuuri smiled at the memory, “she growled at everyone else, but she nuzzled Vicchan the whole time we were talking after your lecture.”

Victor cursed himself, “that was only a couple of years ago, how could I forget so easily?”

“If it’s any consolation,” Yuuri shifted on the floor, “I lost a lot of weight after his passing.”

“That explains… a lot. Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” Victor reached out for Yuuri’s arm, “that must have been very painful to carry alone.”

Yuuri placed a hand over Victor’s and composed himself, “I had sworn to never take another familiar. It was my penance. I’m not sure I could use Makkachin, not like this.”

Victor moved away from Makkachin. He place his other hand Yuuri’s other arm.

“She loves you. This is a gift from Makka, Yuuri. Why throw that away? I won’t let you.”

Yuuri couldn’t look away from Victor. Yuuri noted the pleading look in his eyes. Something warm inside him ate away the guilt. He felt something akin to peace.

“I won’t throw it away,” Yuuri promised. 

Victor, relieved, pulled Yuuri against himself. They sat on the floor embracing until Yuri Plisetsky banged into the kitchen, breaking the calm.


	3. Epilogue

With the revelation of Yuuri’s status as a full fledged wizard, Victor wasted no time in enlisting Yuuri’s help with his digital project for the exhibition. They spent hours and days at a time in the lab, backfiring Yakov’s original purpose of making Victor hire an assistant.

The rest of the house staff kept quiet, knowing the months were counting down to January. They let Marisol in frequently when she brought them food. Sometimes, even Yuri came in with his textbooks with a snack or dessert, silently placing them on the recording desk before escaping up to the loft. 

Victor and Yuuri were inseparable. A constant stream of conversation flowed between them. They bounced idea after idea of each other, filling notebooks and bumping elbows. 

As the nights grew colder and the trek back to the main house in the dark became daunting, the two wizards found themselves falling asleep in the loft. Keeping close to keep warm even despite their heating spells.

Finally, one November evening, Yuuri had an epiphany. Victor had fallen asleep in the bed in the loft. Meanwhile, Yuuri was flopping Makkachin’s ears back and forth in quiet boredom. 

As he moved his hand to scratch her behind the head, he was hit by a realization. He kissed Makkachin on the top of her head and was up in a flash shaking Victor awake.

Victor came to with a hum of surprise, “What’s the matter, Yuuri?”

“Why don’t you use incantations?”

“Because they were too strict; they limited the magic’s potential too much.”

“And we both just assumed that went for any kind of verbal element to the spells,” Yuuri explained.

Victor sat up quickly from the bed, knocking their foreheads together. They sprang apart, in pain.

Not wanting to lose the thread, Victor grabbed Yuuri by the shoulders, “Okay, if not incantations, then what?”

“You cast spells live spells with your wand and words. I cast spells by tracing specific movements and focusing the magic through each stroke.”

“Yes, that’s how it works,” Victor admitted.

“The runes have power and meaning because they give the magic I’m casting shape. Same with your wand and incantations,”Yuuri began, “the methods we were trying were  using both the incantations and the music as sources of magic, but they were not compatible. What if we do have words, but not as flat chanting! Ugh why didn’t we see this before.”

Victor let go of Yuuri’s shoulders, “so we use regular singing. A vessel for the magic, rather than magic itself.”

Yuuri jumped up on to the bed, “yes! Singing is more dynamic than chanting. It has more-”

“Movement,” they said together, nearly yelling. 

Victor joined Yuuri jumping on the bed. They yelled nonsense at each other, laughing at themselves.

“It’s that easy! Why did it take us so long,” Yuuri asked the ceiling. He turned to Victor, “maybe you’re not such a genius after all.”

Victor looked affronted for moment, but he dissolved into laughter. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri and said, “Maybe you complete me.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to laugh, but the arms around him tightened. He looked at Victor and smiled, “Maybe I do.”

They stood there, on the bed, arms around each to keep from losing their balance.

Victor’s eyes were bright with wonder, and Yuuri felt they were a brand of magic he could study forever. Yuuri leaned his face upward, and Victor answered him with a grin and a kiss. 

The kiss felt right, like the bolt of a lock sliding into place. It was quick and chaste and had them both laughing again like mad men. 

“I’m not sure if that’s workplace appropriate,” Yuuri teased. Victor kissed him again, on the corner of his mouth.

“Then you’re fired,” Victor decided, with another fit of laughter.

“You know this place would crumble without me, you said it yourself. I complete you,” Yuuri countered.

“Then don’t complain about ethics when I’m trying to have a moment,” Victor huffed, pitching them backward on to the bed.

As they continued to embrace and explore, Yuuri marveled at the road that let him here to the side of the Europe’s most brilliant wizard, Victor Nikiforov, who was currently looking at Yuuri as if he were the most dazzling thing in the world. And though the pain that started him on this journey had altered him forever, Yuuri was content to know there was life and love beyond grief.


End file.
